You Love Me
by LadyAshh
Summary: ""You love me." You hear her say and you're not sure if she really said it, your imagination never really worked well in your favour in these situations."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: *Nervously leaves this here* I've never done 2****nd**** person, never fancied it, but I read a fic and it was so beautiful and it made me want to try it. Based around the time when Kate got shot …**

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><p>They ran you from the hospital, told you in their nicest words that you looked like hell ran over, there was nothing you could do anyways. So you went home, ashamed with yourself for temporarily forgetting your own daughter, who witnessed the whole thing. You tried to make it up to her, she said it was fine, but you know she's lying for her good or your own you couldn't tell, but still you tried.<p>

It was only a few hours since they ran you from the hospital, Alexis had excused herself, told you she had a test to study for. You could see the pity in her eyes as she left, knowing that she was just trying to get away from your overbearing attitude as you tried to make up for forgetting her.

It was only a few hours since Alexis left when you heard knocking at your door. You momentarily freeze, feeling your heart speed up for some reason unknown to you, you feel an overwhelming sense of inexplicable fear, your mind – running on adrenaline – comes up with theories of who's on the other side of the door, wondering if the sniper had come to look for Kate, finish off the job, or maybe it was the hospital coming to tell you that she didn't make it or worse that the sniper had shown up at the hospital to finish her off.

You feel yourself sinking into a state of panic when the knock sounds again and you're forcing yourself to unsteady feet, stumbling over yourself to get to the door, to quiet the persistent knocking and the unwelcomed thoughts that fill your mind.

You yank the door open, mouth dropping open at the sight your see before you. You close your eyes, shaking your head, thinking you're dreaming, trying to get the image out of your head, expecting to open your eyes and see no one, having it be all in your mind.

"Castle." You hear the whispered plea and your eyes fly open, knowing for sure that this is not a dream, that this is real.

She's soaking wet, shivering.

She's still in her hospital gown, looking small and vulnerable.

Her arms are clutched around her middle of that very, very see through gown. You keep your eyes focused on hers, taking her in, wrapping your head around that she's actually standing in your doorstep, when she's supposed to be in the hospital.

Your eyes widen when it hits you that she's _actually standing at your doorstep when she's supposed to be in the hospital. _

She's swaying on her feet, the pain in her face just registering to you and you could kick yourself for only just noticing. You reach out slowly, hesitantly, still wondering if this is a dream, just your hyped up imagination fooling you into seeing something you are not.

But she's there when your trembling fingers close around her frail elbow, you don't know who's shaking more, you or her at this point, but you see the slow, heavy way she blinks and the way her arms clutch at herself, you see the deep, steady breaths she takes and the way she tries to hide the pain on her face when she does.

"Kate what are you doing here?" You choke out.

"You love me." You hear her say and you're not sure if she really said it, your imagination never really worked well in your favour in these situations.

You blink once, twice before you manage to form a single word.

"What?"

She takes a shaky step forward and your fingers tighten around her elbow, sliding up her arm, your other hand coming to hold her on her other side, she looks like she's ready fall down at any moment and you should really get her back to the hospital … or even inside where it's warm.

"You love me," She whispers again, one of her hands releasing herself and reaching out to you, to touch any part of you, her hand lands on your chest as she bows her head and hisses in pain. You're ushering her inside as quickly, but slowly as you can, seating her on your couch.

She dismisses your concerns, your questions of "Are you okay" "I should get you something" , rolls her eyes when you start listing the pain medication you think you have in your house – at least you know she's somewhat okay when she still manages to roll her eyes at you.

The thunder rolls loudly outside, making the place shake and she jumps, burrowing herself against you, you wrap your arms around her as she breaths herself down. You murmur into her hair that it's just thunder, that she's safe, no one will hurt her.

You make a quick trip into your room, holding off on a conversation she seemed to have broken out of the hospital, came through the rain to have and searched for something warm she could wear, to get her out of that wet gown that has her trembling in your arms.

You give her your clothes, wondering if she can manage to change on her own, but she can, it just takes a while. You head to the kitchen, spinning around, you want to make her coffee, but you don't know if she should be drinking it, if you should be drinking it, you're already hyped up on adrenaline, so you settle for hot chocolate, having it ready by the time she stumbles out of your room.

You set the mugs down on the table and head over to her, helping her to the couch, getting her into a comfortable position before retrieving the hot chocolate. You hand her a cup and take a seat beside her, she's staring at you, with some mixture of awe, hope and … something else you don't want to name just yet.

"What are you doing here Kate? You should be in the hospital, how did you even get out?" You ask her, watching as she raised the mug slowly to her lips and took a sip, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You love me." She said again, the only three words she's said since she's been in your loft and you wonder how no one has thought to call you to tell you she went missing or to ask if she was with you, you would have been mad, if it wasn't for the hopeful and vulnerable way she was looking at you, so small and open in your clothes, so broken, but still so, so beautiful.

You realize you're doing nothing but staring at her when she speaks again and you don't know what she says, just register her lips moving. You shake your head and focus on her words.

"Were you telling the truth?" She asks, her voice low and timid and you suddenly feel the urge to pull her into a kiss, to hold her because she thinks so little of herself, she would think you telling her you love her might not be true or something she imagined, also because she was asking.

You never have these conversations, never talk about anything that might be significant happening in your lives and that was okay, because you knew her, you knew not to push and she would talk when she was ready, you just never figured the moment would be now, after she got shot and broke out of the hospital to find you.

She was staring at you, her eyes wide, small hands with long fingers grasping at the mug, as if she was trying to seek its warmth.

"I would never lie about that Kate." You whisper, watching as her eyes light up, the corner of her lips quirk upwards at your answer and suddenly you're not afraid of letting her know how you feel, not afraid that she might reject you, not afraid.

"I do Kate, I do love you," You confess again, "So much." You reach out for her mug and she releases it, you place hers and yours on the coffee table and you get as close to her as possible, taking her hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

Your heart races in your chest, various words come to mind, but you can't speak them, they're not good enough for her and so you just whisper the same words over and over again, taking in the way her grin got bigger each time, the way her fingers tightened around yours, the way she seemed to push herself up off of the couch to get closer to you.

She retreats instantly, her eyes screwed shut, a mirror of her face earlier when she had clearly hurt herself.

"Kate, come on, you can't be here, you need to be in the hospital." You say, breaking your moment only for her sake, you would never forgive yourself if something happened to her just because you couldn't see past whatever was happening between you and remember she had gotten shot and was in pain.

She lets you take her, which surprises you and makes you wonder just how much pain she was in and how much she was masking. She leans into you, letting you carry most of her weight as you climb into the cab, you wrap your arm around her shoulders and she snuggles against you, curling her legs up onto the seat, so you pull her into your lap.

You feel before you see her clenching and unclenching her fists against his shirt, her jaw tensing, the one or two tears that fell down her face and wet your shirt. You hold her tighter, letting her hand run up and down her arm, trying to calm her trembling body as she acknowledges the pain she is in. You're grateful when you pull up to the hospital, you thank the driver and throw a generous amount of money over to him.

You haul Kate's limp body into your arms, tucking her against you, not bothering to even let her walk. You rush through the doors and into the waiting room, not at all surprised to find Ryan, Esposito, Lanie and some others pacing the floor.

You give them a short explanation, Kate's discomfort more important at this point, she grasping tightly at your shirt, her head buried into the crook of your neck, you can feel the tears pooling there.

Nurses are around you instantly, shooting a thousand questions at you about her disappearance, questions you yourself asked.

_How did she get out?_

You follow the nurse back to her room and lay her on the bed, she's clinging to you when you pull back, doesn't want to let you go, you don't want to let her go either, but she's in pain and she needs whatever it is the nurse is injecting into her IV that she needs reattached to her.

"Please don't leave." She pleads quietly, a tone you've never heard from her before and it breaks your heart, makes you willing to do just about anything for her, if you weren't already willing.

"I won't, Kate, I'll never leave." You respond, not sure if she means leave her life or leave the room, you do neither, not willing to take your eyes off of her.

You feel her limbs become heavy and you untangle them from the fabric in your shirt and lay them over her chest, sure to avoid her scars. You watch her eyes flutter, getting heavy with sleep and you want her to give in, you want her to sleep, to let the meds take over, because she is in pain and you absolutely hate seeing her in pain.

Her head lolls to the side as she falls asleep, face relaxing as the pain she had felt moments before disappears momentarily. The nurse rechecks her wounds, makes sure she is properly hooked up before leaving the room. The doctor comes in shortly after, he asks you about her escape, you tell him you don't know how, he seems to believe you because then he is rattling off Kate's information and you're listening keenly, grateful for Beckett's father giving you and the hospital permission to inform you of any and everything.

The doctor leaves, satisfied that she's okay, everything is going as it should. You stare at her, watching the slow way her chest rises and falls, assuring himself that she was okay, she was alive.

You pull the chair from the corner of the room over to her bed, grabbing her fingers and bringing them to your lips. She remembered, you think to yourself, she remembers what you told her and didn't run – or she did, but she ran straight to you, that had to mean something.

Until then, you watch her sleep, stroking her thumb lightly over her small hands, you lean over and press a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering the words once again, over her forehead, down to her cheek over to her lips.

You draw back then, not wanting to kiss her when she wasn't even conscious to remember it. You lean back into your chair, hand still grasping hers.

You continue to stare at her, content to wait until her drugs wear off and they can actually talk.

You told her you loved her.

She heard. She remembered.

She came to you and that gave you some hope for the future, for them.

So you would wait, you were okay with waiting, you'd wait a lifetime for her, it didn't make sense for you to try and date anyone else, she was it for you and you knew it.

_Please don't leave._

The words echo in your head.

Never Kate, never.

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><p><strong>End AN: I'll understand if you hate it. This was meant to go on longer, but like I'm so tired, it's a struggle to write a sentence, so it'll be in two chapters … if you want it. Tell me what you think? Go easy on me though? I'm just a human. ****Now, I still have not forgotten my other fics, but when inspiration calls, you cannot ignore it, I'll get back to my stories soon, none of them are abandoned, just bear with me. **

**I apologize for mistakes, my eyes want to sleep forever. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This took an awful long time, I'm sorry. Still have other stories to update that I have not abandoned to those of you of think I have… But until then…**

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><p>Your eyes fly open at the sound of the gunshot, your hand flies to your chest, fingers frantically feeling for blood, but you feel nothing but your heart pounding in your chest and the wires connected to you and you relax. You remember what happened, you remember the shot, remember the burning feel of it tearing through your skin, you remember feeling the hot rush of blood as it left your body, you remember his blue eyes above your face, you remember the feeling of life leaving your body.<p>

You remember the words he said, you remember he loves you.

You remember waking up at the hospital and then you remember nothing else but being at his front door, seeking answers to your questions. You needed to know if it was just your mind giving you what you know you wanted, no matter how much you denied it as you breathed your possible last breath.

You needed to know if he was telling the truth, or if it was just a last resort for him, to keep you alive. You needed to know if he really loves you.

He took you back, when you couldn't hide the pain anymore, he took you in his arms and returned you to the hospital and he held you as the nurse gave you something to take the pain away, to take consciousness away.

Your eyes scan the dark room, landing on his slumped figure by the wall, you stare at his figure in the darkness, letting your eyes adjust. You listen to the steady sound of a machine, beeping in time with your slowing heartbeat. You inhale deeply, wincing and groaning at the pain that shoots through your chest at the simple movement.

He's by your side then, his fingers finding yours, squeezing them tightly, letting your mind focus on something other than the pain. You shut your eyes, feel his hands ghosting over your face, brushing the hair away from your eyes, when you open your eyes, he's closer, his face inches from yours and your heart speeds up again – and so does the machine, which has him backing away from you, shifting his focus to the erratically beeping machine and your curse yourself for not being able to control yourself in this moment.

"Are you hurt?" He asks, his voice soft and full of concern and suddenly, you never want him to stop talking, never want to stop hearing that voice.

Your eyes focus on his and for a moment, you get lost, you get lost in the feeling that everything is okay, that you can do this. You forget about the pain in your chest, the dull ache in your head, you forget about that fact that someone tried to kill you, that you died twice. You forget about everything and that's what he does to you, he makes you forget, because with him, you know everything will be okay.

You realize he's staring at you, concern clear on his face and you remember he asked a question.

"I'm fine." You manage to get out before you're taken over by a coughing fit, your throat is too dry, too scratchy, you need water.

He's there in an instant of course, holding an ice chip to your lips and you close your eyes as you accept it, allowing it to cool your mouth, to take the sour taste of something out of your mouth and then he's feeding you another and another until you can talk without almost choking.

God, you love him.

And he loves you.

You settle back in the bed and allow yourself the pleasure to just stare at him, to take in all that you've noticed over all the years, but that you've never fully appreciated.

He smiles at you and you feel your heart warm, you feel your entire body come alive with something you've only ever felt when he was around, when he smiled, when he laughed, when he accidentally brushed your fingers with his or when he stood too close and you could smell his scent.

His smile falters and you want to reach out and smooth those worry lines that have appeared over his brow, but he's looking at you in curiosity and tilts his head, as if he's fighting with the decision to speak or not.

"Castle." You whisper.

He looks up at you and those blue eyes of his, that you didn't think could get any better are suddenly warmer, softer and in some way deeper and you can't remember what you were going to say.

"Kate," He begins slowly and he shifts, reaching for your hand, "Do you remember last night?" He asks, his eyes on your face, but not meeting your eyes.

Oh Castle.

You lace your fingers with his and watch your intertwined hands for a moment before looking back up at him, watching him watch your hands. His thumb begins to trace circles on the back of your hand and you can't control the slight shiver that runs through your body.

"You love me."

His eyes snap up with her words, his eyes wide and unsure still.

"I broke out of the hospital, I came to your loft, because I remembered." You continue, not allowing yourself to look away from those eyes, with excitement and hope shining in them.

He chuckles, "You know, you are going to have to tell me how you broke out of the hospital, how you got past Ryan and Esposito."

You shrug, "Technicalities."

He laughed again and you store it away in your memory, the sound of his laugh, was just as powerful as a touch from him.

God, what has he done to you?

Your eyes fall to your still joined hands, his thumb slowly stroking your hand, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound in the room and you're grateful to hear it as you're sure he is, because you know for sure that you are alive, that you beat the odds and you came back.

"I love you too." You whisper, before you could talk yourself out of saying the words that you knew he was waiting to hear, that you knew you've wanted to say for the longest while.

He slowly looks up at you, with that big grin on his face and you just want to -

You couldn't finish the thought, because as usual, he read your mind and he is kissing you. He's soft and warm and gentle, not what you imagined your first kiss would be like, but then again, you and him were never ones for doing what was expected.

Your fingers thread through the hair at the back of his head in an attempt to bring him closer, you want to get lost in him, you want to forget some more, you just don't want him to stop.

He presses into you, pushes you against the pillows, careful not to hurt you, always so careful.

Your hand rests on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. You can feel his heart under your hands, it's racing and you register that there's a loud incessant beeping in the background and you realize that it's your own, being broadcasted to the entire floor that your heart is racing.

Castle is kissing you and your heart is racing, like a teenager.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek and he's slowing it down, pulling away and you chase after him, not wanting to let him go, but you can't move like he can without hurting yourself and he's back in his chair, grinning at you.

His hair is mused, his face is flushed and his shirt is crushed and you imagine you look no different. You take a deep breath, surprised that a nurse hadn't come rushing in when your heart monitor took off, but glad still that your moment wasn't interrupted.

He takes your hands in his again and brings them to his lips, kissing them each ever so softly.

"So, does this mean?" He speaks, his voice lower than before.

You nod, squeezing his hands, not trusting your voice right now.

He grins again, making you melt, making you want him to come right back over here so you can kiss him senseless, but it's this moment the door opens.

He moved to release your hands and you know why, but you just hold on as both your heads turn in the direction of the door, watching as Lanie, Esposito and Ryan enter the room.

"Are we interrupting anything?" Lanie asks knowingly, she glances at you and you know there's not hiding what you're feeling, you know it's plain on your face and although Ryan and Esposito might miss it, Lanie won't and she doesn't.

She sends a wink your way and continues into the room, eyeing your joint hands with a raised eyebrow. You know she will bother you later, ask you for details, details you don't really have … yet.

You push those thoughts from your mind as your friends settle in the room, firing questions one after the other, laughing and joking around as usual. You glance every now and then at Castle, who is mostly staring at you and suddenly you feel happy.

You feel happy and safe and loved.

You feel like a weight has been lifted, you feel satisfied and excited, you feel like you can do anything.

He loves you and you love him.

You feel happy.

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><p><strong>End AN: Writing in 2****nd**** person takes concentration, so if you see me writing in 3****rd**** person at any time, just leave a review so I can fix it, thanks **


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